Polcarstva
by Impervious Marr
Summary: My brother's getting married to someone he met at a shooting range. And the soon-to-be brother-in-law? My favourite movie star. Yeah, that insanely hot Russian guy I've been crushing over since forever. I don't even know, man. RussAmer, CanadaBelarus, AU
1. Married, married, married

_All the fucking shit happens to Alfred Jones, while all the weird shit happens to my brother. It's like, a fact of life. If a week passes without something boggling the heck of me then it's a sure sign that I'm __**not **__Alfred Jones, which I am, and I think I just lost myself there._

_Right._

_To start things off, I really, really like this actor called Ivan Braginski. I have all of his freaking movies shelved above my television at home and when a new one comes out I'm usually first in line queueing up for tickets. The man's a genius in his work, not to mention he's freaking hot to boot. So he might or might not be the star of some wet dreams I'd like to keep behind a few closed doors, thank you very much. _

_I think of him as the perfect guy, the one guy not to let me down in my dreams since I'm never going to get him anyway. Really nice and really sweet and basically the best guy ever._

_To cut things short, I have this stupid little crush over him. Yes, it is stupid. But I've been having this crush since my __**teens.**_

_So yeah._

_The fucking shit._

_This week's shit tops off all the other shits to have ever happened to me in the course of my entire life. Possibly changed my perspective on a few things, and I'll never let my daydreams carry me away again like some fucking damsel in distress. Take, for example, if you meet an insanely hot Russian man who's gonna be your brother in law._

_Keeping up with the theme of 'fucking shit', he will turn out to be a fucking bastard._

_Keeping up with the theme of 'seriously fucking shit', he will turn out to be the guy you've been lusting over ever since he became your favourite movie star._

_--_

_--_

"I'm getting married."

Alfred spat out the beer he was drinking, and _stared_ at his brother as if he's gone insane, the world was about to end in three seconds and pigs were going to crash land at his apartment.

He checked the window. No such thing.

"Mattie, the world's not ending yet."

Matthew rolled his eyes, looking critically at the mess Alfred just made on his carpet before rubbing his forehead. "Yes, Al, even though the fact's probably boggled your mind like now like Jell-O, I'm actually settling down. I'm gonna buy a big house, have some tykes running around to terrorize you, you're going to be an Uncle -"

"_Yes._"

"- and you are _not _going to teach my kids the best ways how to say fuck in twenty different languages."

"But they need _all _the life skills they can get," Alfred whined, before he laughed and promptly slung an arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "I'm seriously happy for you, man! The girl must be damn lucky for getting such a nice guy like you. Did you tell the old man yet?"

"No, I wanted you to be the first one to know."

Alfred smiled as if he just got the biggest Triple Deluxe Vanilla ice cream cone seen on this side of the city and the next. "You're the best brother _ever. _When's the wedding? Who's the girl? And, when am I gonna meet her?"

"Next year March. I met her at the shooting range last year and, well, I guess it went off just like that - I didn't really tell anyone about it," he added hastily, looking at the way Alfred frowned for being left in the dark. "Really! She takes a while to get used to, but she's really sweet deep down. Sort of. _Really _deep..."

Alfred chuckled anyway, and Matthew smiled in relief.

"So _that's _why you wouldn't let your bro come with you on Saturday morning practices, huh?" Alfred asked suggestively, and at the way Matthew blushed, he crowed. "You're _smitten!_ Absolutely goddamn smitten! Holy shit, this is so awesome, I can't wait to meet her now - hey, does she have a really hot sister I could -"

"Knock it off," Matthew laughed, punching his brother lightly on the arm. Alfred mock-pouted. "She does have a sister, though - and an older brother."

Alfred grimaced - he's had bad experiences with pissing older brothers off.

"Oof, served. Thanks for the warning. But you never know," Alfred winked, enduring another hook to the arm. He leaned back to the sofa, running a hand through his hair. "Losing to my own brother in tying the knot, well, it's gotta mean something. I seriously gotta get back in the dating scene once in a while before I die lonely, huh?"

"Lonely?" Matthew echoed, then his eyes widened. "What happened to -"

"It didn't work out," Alfred cut in curtly, hurt overtaking his face for a second before he grinned at his brother. "This calls for celebration, punk. We're gonna get so pissed that we'll start singing on the rooftops again."

Matthew frowned. "Don't change the subject. What's this about you breaking up with Luce?"

"It's old news," Alfred said, trying for nonchalance as he waved a hand aside. "Four months ago, no big deal."

"You've been together with him for close to _three years _and you expect me to just wave it _aside_? Why didn't you tell anyone, Al?"

_Why didn't you tell me?_

"I didn't want anyone to know about it, all right?" Alfred said roughly, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Look, I just - I'm sorry. For not telling you or like, talking about it. It's just stupid shit. We've been arguing a lot the last few months and, well, it just... Built up from there. Just cut it out," he added, when Matthew was about to say more. "I don't wanna think no more about it and the bastard's out of my life so fuck that shit."

"If you're sure..."

_This isn't over,_ is what Matthew was really saying, so Alfred just rolled his eyes and nodded, getting up from his seat and sauntering towards the kitchens.

"Yeah, yeah. Now enough about me, it's all about you! Let's get this party going!"

"Al, I'm not going to get horribly drunk with you again. Remember the last time?"

Alfred smirked. "With Mrs. Turner? Hell _yes._ Now _that_ was some serious action, even better than the tube -"

"I couldn't show my face to her for _three months!_" Matthew squeaked in mortification. "I am _not _drinking that beer - Alfred Jones, you _will_ put that away or so help you -"

"Whatcha gonna do about it?" Alfred taunted, then opened the can and shoved it into his brother's hands. "Come on, it'll probably be the last time I can get a good reason to get you hungover in my couch anyway. Pretty please?"

"Fuck you."

"I don't think your lady's gonna take well to that."

Matthew scowled.

"You're just being whiny because I could _always_ drink you under the table -"

"Oh, you're just asking for it," his brother growled, and Alfred grinned when his brother downed the can as fast as he could without spilling a drop or choking himself.

Man, he loved winning.

And when he woke up the next morning with unexplainable bruises on his arms and legs, and Matthew draped over the table like a dead man, he promptly remembered he forgot to ask for Mattie's fiance's name.

--

--

_**polcarstva**_

_half a kingdom_

one - _married, married, married_

--

--

"I have an announcement," Nataliya spoke, over the clink of wineglasses and forks hitting each other as the family dined. Ivan looked up from his soup while Yekaterina's hand stopped in midair.

"_Sestra?_"

"I'm getting married." And as she said this, she looked at Ivan pointedly - who sighed, putting down his spoon and grabbing for the wine as Yekaterina herself continued drinking.

"We've talked about this, Nataliya. I will not get married to you, even if you have all the papers signed up and ready to go. I do not wish to marry my own sister, and it is illegal to do so in this country. And I thought you understood?"

"I understood clearly; it does not mean that I would stop loving you dearly, brother." Nataliya picked at her food, moving the potatoes around before spearing them with her fork and eating it with ruthless precision. Food was serious business. "Be that as it may, I met a man at the shooting range last year. I very much think we like each other? He proposed to me on Monday... We are getting married next March. I think I might like spending my whole life with him, even if I would rather have only you, brother. He doesn't mind my habits so much."

Yekaterina squealed in surprise, almost choking on her wine while Ivan _did _choke, coughing noisily to get rid of the food stuck in his throat. He waved off Nataliya when she started to get up from her seat to help her brother, face etched with concern.

So she continued eating, spearing more helpless little potatoes.

"I am so happy for you, Nataliya!" Yekaterina exclaimed, making an effort to get up from her seat and hug her younger sibling. "When are we to meet him?" she asked nervously, mind already whirling with plans, plans, and more plans to get the man to stay. Hopefully forever, depending on how nice the man was, but it didn't matter, since her sister would be occupied. And an occupied Nataliya was a _good _Nataliya.

At least, good for her mental well being.

"I don't know. We'll be free this weekend. When would you like to meet him? _Braht?_"

Ivan put up a hand, coughing into his hand, then smiled.

Widely.

"Firstly, I am very happy for you, Nataliya. And I have no problems if we meet him this Saturday. Katyusha?"

"That sounds good to me. I'm so excited!"

"Then it is settled," Ivan murmured, barely keeping off the glee in his voice. Finally! No more obsessive love messages taped onto his face every morning, no more cameras installed in his bathroom, no more listening to serenades outside his balcony when he was trying _to sleep, Nataliya, please leave your older brother alone it is __**late**_-

"I will still be stalking you, dear brother. I have not stopped when I met _Matvey,_ likely I will not stop after getting married to him either." She smiled sweetly at Ivan. "I love you, big brother."

Ivan's face fell, but he quickly smiled again.

"At this point, I will take what I can get. Bless the good soul marrying you. Katyusha! Bring out the vodka!"

--

--

_I gotta say, that Saturday seemed so nice. Blue skies, fluffy clouds, not too hot even though it's gonna be summer._

_Isn't it always like that when fate's about to fuck you up?_

_--_

_--_

"So it's just a meeting with me, you, and the lady, right?"

"With her siblings, yes. It wouldn't be fair otherwise, eh?" Matthew asked, pulling the car into the parking space near the restaurant they decided to meet up in. Just a small affair, nothing too big but obviously one of the classier establishments since Matthew was trying to get him to wear a tie. Obviously his brother really wanted this meeting to be perfect - but Alfred just settled getting into one of his better looking button up shirts, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black trousers. He wasn't about to wear a tie, no way no how. "Anyway, I think we're early, so you might as well get our table first? I just need to get something down the store, I'll catch up with you later."

Alfred laughed, and waved Matthew off before he could himself nagging him to death. "I get it, man. Just go."

"Give me a call if they're here and I'm not around yet, okay? Seriously, Al -"

"I said I got it." Alfred smiled fondly at his brother. "I won't mess up something _this _big for you."

"Okay." Matthew inhaled sharply, then exhaled sharply. "Okay, Al. Thanks."

"No problem."

It wasn't long before he was seated in a table meant for five, which was just nice, come to think of it - with a fine view of the street outside and the nearby canal separating this part of the city and the next. The atmosphere was surprisingly quiet considering the amount of people clamouring to get into the restaurant - Matthew was really being over the top with this, Alfred decided wryly, smiling at the waiter when she came by with the menu and asking for a plain glass of water before she went off.

"Are you Matthew Williams?"

Alfred looked up, about to say no before he stopped and gawked and _holy fucking shit _and _I think I would like to die now, please? _and _he's so fucking hot -_

The man frowned at him, then repeated his question. "Are you Matthew Williams?"

"Um -" Alfred broke himself off, laughing nervously when he knew that his ears were turning pink right now from embarassment. "No, no, I'm his brother, I just - wow. I had no idea - you're Natalia's brother?"

"Ah."

Ivan Braginski was right there. _Right there. _Opposite him, grimacing slightly, and moving to sit down in the chair on the opposite side that was facing Alfred and oh lord he was about to do something really embarassing with his pants if he was going to keep on staring at him. Hello, this was the guy who acted in every movie in his precious collection of DVDs above the television in his apartment, the guy he's been wanting to meet, the star of his wet dreams here and then _though I'll die before I'll ever admit it. Ever._

_**Ever.**_

_Oh my god._

"She didn't tell him, then - or Matthew didn't tell you. Natalia uses my mother's maiden name for privacy purposes, you understand. It's nice to meet the family of the man willing to marry my sister."

Alfred simply gawked, and Ivan raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed.

"Are you hoping for an autograph?" Even a daft idiot wouldn't be able to miss the condenscending tone, and Alfred was far from an idiot. He suddenly scowled, shoulders tensing in defense as he mentally warred with himself to say _oh my freaking god __**yes, **_or _what the fuck. _The choice was quite obvious.

"What the fuck?" Told you so. "Can't a guy be a little bit overwhelmed?"

"Obviously you can do it with a bit more grace, yes."

All fantasies of Ivan Braginski being the perfect guy of his dreams shattered and was thrown into a horrible, horrible pit in his mind.

"You're a real piece of work, insulting a guy you barely got to know a minute or two into the conversation."

"I was merely pointing out something you could work on before you meet another famous persona; it wouldn't do to stare and gawk rudely at every actor or actresses you see, hmm?"

Alfred's jaw dropped. "I do _not _stare and gawk! It just took me by surprise that my brother-in-law's you, that's all," he growled fiercely, eyes narrowed. "Except that I'm seriously reconsidering congratulating Mattie for getting such a jerk to be family."

"You say that as if I would be impressed having _you_ as a brother-in-law as well."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it means. Now I dread on meeting your brother, I fear he will be as much as an idiot as you are."

"Leave Matthew out of this," Alfred snapped viciously, and even the tone brought Ivan up short. "You can talk bad about me all you want but no way in hell are _you_ gonna diss my brother. I don't care if you're some big shot movie star, if you ruin this for Matthew I'm going to fuck you up so bad you wouldn't even know where you lived, _bastard_."

Ivan was silent for a moment, before he smirked.

And Alfred was trying to _not _think of what that smirk was doing to his mind, goddamn it.

"Very well. And if you ruin this for Nataliya, I will not hesitate to make your life a living hell."

"Fine. Whatever."

"Where is your brother?"

Alfred shrugged carelessly, still a little bit infuriated - but he promised Mattie he wouldn't blow this, so he just had to be civil. "He had to pick up some stuff, he won't be long. How about your sister?"

"I had an appointment and went straight here after that. Nataliya and Yekaterina will be here shortly."

"Cool."

"Al!" Matthew's voice called, and Alfred looked up, seeing Matthew with the company of two women - one with long blond hair whose hand he was holding, presumably his fiancee, and another with hair cut short and holy hell, those were _some _assets. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting - w-wait, are you - ?"

Ivan smiled charmingly, exasperatedly. "I see she hasn't told you. Yes, I'm Ivan Braginski; Nataliya's older brother. She uses our mother's maiden name instead of Braginski."

"No, I mean, she talks about you all the time. Though she never said anything about you being famous, that's all... She just calls you Ivan. Um, my name's Matthew Williams, and it's a pleasure. I see you've met my brother, I hope he wasn't giving you any trouble."

Alfred snorted inelegantly, getting up from his seat and grinning anyway. "I'm not that bad, bro. My name's Alfred Jones, nice to meet the in laws. Anyway, you're Nataliya, right? Congratulations on getting Matthew, you're a real lucky girl." He shook her hand and winced when she returned it firmly - a bit too tight, in his opinion, but nevermind - then moved on to the other one. "And I'm guessing you're Yekaterina?"

"Yes." The woman blinked owlishly. "How did you know?"

"Ivan mentioned your name. We were just talking to pass the time."

She giggled, though Alfred noted it was slightly nervous. "I see. It's nice to meet you too, Alfred. I'm very happy Nataliya will have such a friendly brother in law, I hope you will get along with us too, we're not scary! Really!"

Alfred and Matthew both stared, before the older sibling coughed lightly. "Um, it's totally cool. I think you guys are awesome, Matthew's lucky to have a girl like your sister and uh."

_My favourite movie star is a Fucking Bastard, but I guess I can keep that to myself._

"Really? That's great!" Yekaterina exclaimed, smiling a bit too widely to be called normal.

"So, um -" Matthew looked a bit lost, before he smiled fondly at Nataliya when she raised up her hand to touch his own. "Let's sit down! I'm sure we have a lot to talk about, Nataliya talks so much about you, Ivan..."

And when Alfred looked at the couple, even if Nataliya was a bit cold and looked like she wasn't really Matthew's type - he seemed to be more suited for Yekaterina, come to think of it - the adoration in his brother's eyes was real, and the way Nataliya treated Matthew was probably the way she didn't treat anyone else - and Alfred felt a stab of envy at the happiness his brother found. Even though it all started in the shooting range.

(And he didn't really want to think about what Nataliya was doing in a shooting range in the first place. Maybe she was like Matthew, going there once in a while to get rid of aggressive tendencies? Matthew had a streak for being passively so, after all. He looked docile but could be as vicious as Alfred was.)

_That's... Probably how they got together._

Shoving aside those thoughts, he tried to not think about what the uncertain future held. He wasn't even going to get into the issue of telling the old man about this new development, and the wedding arrangements his brother wanted help with in the months to come. Was he going to work with Yekaterina over the proceedings? How about Ivan? Oh god, he was going to see Ivan a lot after this. Ivan who-turned-out-to-not-be-the-dreamy-guy-after-all Braginski.

Ivan, who was still his crush even though he turned out to be a stupid jerk after all.

Oh, _god._

_This is embarassing._

And the first thing that he was going to do when he got back home was take a good look at his DVD collection.

Then he was gonna call up Steve, who was the only one who knew about his little obsession, because he knew when to stop laughing.

After that he was going to bawl about this week's fucking shit with some ice cream on the side.

--

--

end chapter one

--

--

A/N: shit happens when i get a hold of the computer and if i have stupid plot bunnies waiting to die in my head. ivan scared off the paparrazi today or they didn't detect his lumbering presence. oh lol orz. lol alfred you stupid boy. um, he's 26 in this, matthew is same age. polcarstva is the name of this russian game i played a few weeks back. owo

it's gonna be first person view after this in alfred's perspective, probably. he's so fun to write.

ciao guys owo


	2. Three Gallons

I called up Steve _right _after I got out of the car and said goodbye to Matthew - it was a nice lunch and all, thanks for the ride, I love you, you love me. From the sound of gunshots in the background, Steve was probably trying to get a headshot in Modern Warfare before the second game came out in November. (Yeah, the love for the gun kinda runs in the family. Mattie and me go to the shooting range while Steve took up the road of virtual reality.) Or he might be trying to feed his tetchy koala again. You never really knew with the guy, and I'm not even sure myself, even if I've known him since he was in diapers.

I mean, he's my younger brother and all, how _wouldn't _I know?

_Beep beep._

_Beep beep._

_Beep - click -_

"_You just made me lose a headshot you bloody wanker -"_

"_Stevieeeee _today sucks today sucks today sucks oh my god today _sucks_."

"_You __**always **__start your conversations with 'today sucks'. Isn't there anything else to talk about? Maybe a, 'Hi, Steve, it's really nice to hear my younger brother again on the phone, I really miss you, I think life is great? It doesn't suck today?'"_ Steve grumbled good naturedly, then sighed. "_Anyway, what's up?"_

"It's Ivan, Steve. Ivan -"

"_I swear mate, if you're getting into one of your fanboy moments again I'm going to put down the phone right now."_

"I'm not! Really! Look, I just - Matthew's getting married."

The call died.

Cursing seven different variations of 'what the fuck', I was about to punch in his number again since I never use speed dial, before my own phone rang - and lo and behold, it was Steve. Who was coughing loudly into the phone.

"What the hell what that about?"

"_Was - drinking a bottle of water, and when you said 'marry' I basically spit all over the carpet, and pressed 'end call' accidentally. You know how it goes." _He shifted for a while, and I just crashed on the couch, looking as forlornly as I could the the shelf over my television as if it could give me the answer to the meaning of life and why my idol is such a jackass. "_Holy hell. Matthew's the one ending up with kids? Not surprising there, but just - wow."_

"I know, right?" I knew Steve knew that I was saying it with a fond tone. We all loved each other, so this was a really big thing, and it's _Mattie. _What's there _not _to be fond about? He's been taking care of us since we were freaking kids, even when he was a kid himself; always the one to scream at the top of his lungs when we were up to something stupid.

"_So what's this about Ivan?"_

I scowled. "He is a fucking jackass to top off all jackasses in this part of the world _and _the next."

"... _Whoah._"

"I can't believe it that he's such a _jerk_," I whined for a _long _time, cut off by Steve choking for the second time.

"_You __**sure **__you're my brother? Alfred Jones? Fanboy of the extreme to one actor named Ivan Braginski, currently __**bagging**__ said actor?_"

I sniffed. I couldn't help it, he threw my dreams into the Pits of my Mind! That was practically Unforgivable! "He's a jerk. I swear, man. He was such an asshole to me during lunch -"

"_You were on a date with him!?"_

"I wish. I told you Matthew's getting married, right? Well, he's our future _fucker_-in-law," I ranted, rolling on the sofa like a kid. Hey, I'm alone in my own apartment, I can act however the fuck I want.

"_... I know you're getting seriously aggro and all, mate, but that just sounds... Wrong._"

"_Brother_-in-law," I corrected grumpily, rolling my eyes. "Whatever. The guy I've been having boners for a good portion of my teenage years is gonna be our freaking brother-in-law."

"_Too much information, thank you very much! And shit, that's hard to beat." _I heard more shifting, and his tone was more sympathetic than before. "_Man, today does suck."_ Wait, no, I could hear the smirk in his voice._ "At least for you."_

"Shut up. I just don't know, man. I mean, I've been having this stupid crush over him for years and, something like this is just kinda hard to take, you know? It's not easy to come to terms to getting dissed by your own idol. I just... It's weird. I'm gonna have wet dreams about my _brother-in-law._ Future bro-in-law. What the hell _ever._"

Steve sighed. "_Life's that way. Just have to deal with it, that's what I always do."_

"How the hell am I gonna deal with it if he knows about my little obsession, huh?" I asked, voice getting higher and higher as each word passed. "I won't be able to look at him in the eye. Like, for_ever. _That's gonna be so embarassing to the point of I wouldn't even remember what embarassing is, and yeah, I know I don't make sense now. I just, _oh my god Steve._"

"_It'll be just like Mattie and Mrs. Turner the other day, then."_

"Fuck you," I said good-naturedly, then snorted. "It's not the same."

Steve hummed into the phone, and from the tapping I could hear he's probably starting up a new game again. "_Look at it this way. This is probably retribution for bullying Mattie when you two were nippers, yeah? Go through it like the man you are - wait."_

I rolled my eyes. "Very funny."

"_I'm serious! Who knows, maybe he's just being a jerk today because of a bad day or something? You never know, Al. He just might be the perfect guy you've been getting wood out of since you were fifteen after all."_

"Fuck you. Seriously, Steve." I ran a hand through my hair, but grinned anyway. Steve's the best. He always knew what to say when I was being stupid. "You're right. Thanks, bro."

"_No problem._"

And the next morning, I woke up with a suspicious stain on my pants, hands fisted on the bedcovers and panting for breath. So I reached out for my phone.

--

--

From: **Wanker **- _0745 am_

_fuk u 4 givin me hope_

Steve smirked, knowing exactly what his older brother meant.

--

--

_**polcarstva**_

_half a kingdom_

two: _three gallons_

--

--

_Monday_

I decided to be a man about it in the end and just resign myself into dealing with the fact that my future brother-in-law is... Yeah.

And two days later saw me attacking the fifth tub of ice cream with a vengeance, because resigning myself to dealing with it didn't necessarily mean I had to do it _now_. My face was stuffed with chocolate chip cookie dough goodness, I was watching Oprah reruns while shouting at the screen over the injustice of it all, and wrapped up in blankets even though in a while it'll get too hot to need them - when the second 'fucking shit' to happen, _happened._

The doorbell rang and it was probably Mattie, since he said he was gonna come by to pick me up and then go around scouting for venues for his wedding. So I got up from my seat and lugged that gigantic tub with me to the front door. I have the weekends and Mondays off, which probably spared me from going through the pains of stupid Mondays.

I swung the door open. "Where the hell have you been, Matt? You're never late -"

I was wrong. Just like every other poor fuckers in the world, I'm still subjected to stupid Mondays. This was one of them.

What the _hell _do you say when the man who put you this slump in the first place is the one standing in the front door?

And you're only wearing boxers with a spoon in your mouth and a three gallon tub of ice cream in your right hand? Let me tell you. You say nothing. _Nothing._

You just stare.

He returned the look, before cocking an eyebrow. He was wearing a button up shirt just like what he wore yesterday, only that today it was in grey - with sunglasses - but it was him. From the condenscending smile, the silver in his ear, to the fact that he was taller than me even if I was standing on the slightly raised floor of my apartment.

Ivan Braginski.

In front of my apartment.

This was _not _the way I wanted it to go.

"I met your brother at the hotel I was staying in; he asked if I could drop by and pick you up," he said as his way of greeting. "He told me your address."

I managed an, "Ughbla." It was actually pretty good considering I'm going through one of those periodical 'Shock of My Life's, and I even had a straight face on! Bonus.

He had that stupid unimpressed look on his face again that made me feel like I should sock it to him, but I'll probably traumatize myself for giving my idol bruises on his face. "I suppose you had no idea?"

"No," I said plainly, around the spoon in my mouth, then mechanically shut the door in his face. I just stood there, still in fucking shock, when the doorbell rang again. So I opened it, and repeated steps one to three. I just stared. Apparently Ivan decided to take things into his own hands, since he pushed up his sunglasses and rolled his eyes, giving me a treat to the hottest pair of violet eyes I've ever seen in my life. (It's probably just a fanboy moment.)

"I don't suppose I could invite myself in?"

"No - I mean, fuck. What the fuck -" It kicked in, that Ivan _Braginski _was standing in front of my freaking _door. _I wrenched the spoon out of my mouth with a vengeance and waved it around. "What the hell are you doing here!"

"Do I really have to repeat myself again?"

"Fuck you."

"Blame Matthew if you really want someone to be angry at." He smirked. "And cute boxers."

I blushed. Goddamn it, fuck him for being so - so - _whatever!_ But it didn't stop me from snarking off. You can't stop the Alfred from snarking off!

"Go to hell -"

"So can I come in?"

Oh he did _not._

"_Did you just interrupt me -_"

"_Da_, I did."

"I'm warning you -"

"I'm _so _scared."

"Don't you _dare _do it again -"

"I'm doing it. Again." He looked really smug about it all, too. Fucking _bastard. _"Now let me in, hmm?"

"Matthew didn't tell me anythin' about this, no way! So _you _can just get the fuck off my property!" I shouted, pointing right at his face. He slapped my hand aside, and I gawked.

_**Blasphemy!**_ (Not that I know what it means. I just hear Matthew saying it when I completely boggle him.)

"I know you want to be an idiot about it, but I do owe your brother a favour. He said he sent you a message?"

"He did _no such thing!_" I accused, patting my sides before remembering I didn't have pants on - I'm in front of Ivan Braginski without pants and _fuck I'm not thinking about it _and I just went for keeping an angry look on my face when I stomped towards the sofa, putting down the tub on the dining table and grabbing for my jeans. I went for my phone in the back pocket, running a thumb over the touchscreen surface.

_You have (1) new message_

From: **Mattie - **_0856 am­_

_Ivan's picking you up today, I'm sorry I can't make it! It's just crazy stuff going on and I can't talk much now. He said he could pick you up for me so he'll come by right around half past ten, eh?_

I looked at the clock, which shouted _it's ten thirty, you dumbass._

...

...

Fine.

"Okay, so maybe you were right - _holy batshit __**fuck **__-_" Too close for comfort, too close for fucking comfort! I jumped away from where Ivan was peering over my shoulder earlier, staring at him with the most paranoid look I could muster. And since I was Alfred Jones, it was a pretty paranoid look. "What the hell were you trying to _do _- _**why the hell are you in my house!**_"

"Do you _ever _stop shouting?" Ivan retorted instead, crossing his arms. "I went in because I don't appreciate it much when my photo comes in the front page of some newspaper for standing in front of some random apartment."

Despite myself, I winced. I don't exactly fancy getting hogged by paparazzi every day of my life either; some footage from the television practically traumatized me and effectively put me off on any thoughts about being famous.

"Right. How do you deal with that shit, man?" I asked conversationally, anyway, _all _to be civil of course, not to just find a reason to talk with Ivan.

Really.

The slight upwards twist to his lips were a million times better than the stupid smirks and disapproving looks. I killed the butterflies in my stomach as fast as I could before I became a girl about it. "Practice. Anyway - Alfred, _da?_ We're quite behind schedule," he murmured, glancing at his watch before peering at me through completely relaxed eyes. "I know you are a bit slow sometimes, but your brother needs you."

_... I hate him. No, wait. I don't hate him. I don't know anymore._

"One more wisecrack and I'll throw you out the window, pretty boy," I threatened, and I can _not _believe I was actually threatening Ivan-fucking-Braginski -

Who was such a jerk.

But a really, really hot jerk.

Yeah, well, I kinda resigned to being a stupid fucker a long time ago.

"Just - okay, fine. Let me just clean up everything and get some clothes on before I go?"

Ivan went to sit on one of my armchairs without a word, staring at me with a cocked eyebrow.

Seriously, would it like, _kill _him to be polite or something? Then again, it probably would, and I wasn't exactly willing to get accused of Ivan's suspicious death in my own apartment. _Shocking Death of Actor in Apartment, Fan Put Under Suspicion._ Steve would probably laugh.

Fuck you, Mondays.

--

--

His ride was a swear-to-god freaking sweet piece of an Italian supercar, one of those models which pronounciations I'd probably butcher to oblivion. It was parked right in front of my apartment building with some of the passerbys looking at it as if it was some sort of weird, beautiful alien tech. Me? I couldn't stop fawning over it in my head.

_oh my god the paint job the glass the wheels the rims the __**aerodynamics**_

See?

But if you were there, you probably wouldn't notice because I was trying to keep the admiration off my face with a bored look instead. I don't want this guy to get any ideas and make fun of me again. Seriously. Anyway, he was the one who moved around the car, getting into the driver's seat while I went to the passenger's - he started up the car when I barely got inside, and moved it before I got the door to close.

I slammed it shut and looked at him as if he was crazy. "What the fucking _hell _is your problem!?" I demanded, when we were already halfway towards the first traffic lights of the street. "Would it kill you to wait for other people!?"

"No, not really." He smirked. "It's amusing seeing you scramble for cover."

I stared at him as if he was Matthew in a clown suit singing 'I'm a Cuppy Cake' at the top of his lungs, before scooting away just a little bit and grabbing for the seatbelt, keeping an eye at him at all times as I did so. "Um. Would it like, offend you if I called you a fucking insane sadist?" I asked warily, as if he was gonna jump out of the seat and bite me.

Which was actually not a bad idea at all -

_Focus, dumbass, focus!_

"I would be offended if you did not," Ivan replied, turning into a corner while I got the seatbelt on and sat straight on my seat, trying not to touch all the pretty looking buttons on the expensive looking interior. _Pretty pretty pretty._

"Right. So, um. Do you _always _treat everyone like this?"

"Only when they're a source of my amusement, yes. Which isn't very often, for I have to keep up appearances most of the time, you understand."

"... But I'm your future brother-in-law."

"But not the one marrying dear Nataliya, and so I see no reason for treating you extra nicely."

I crossed my arms and him and gave him a strange look. "You mean you think you're actually being _nice_ to me right now?" I asked, disbelieving, trying not to think of how funny that made me feel inside. You know. Special.

Shut up.

"Of course; I could have just made you walk towards the hotel, _nyet_? Or not even keep up a conversation with you."

"... Dude, I think you need a few pointers about the right way of being social."

"So you are saying I should introduce myself with a smile? Very well," he murmured, letting the car grind into a halt while waiting for the red light to change. He tucked his sunglasses away and mustered up the most sincere smile he could come up with, which was pretty fucking convincing. (He's an actor. Go figure.) Being the fanboy I am, I stored it away for other little fantasies I'll be playing with back at home. And you didn't hear that. At all. "It's nice to meet you, Alfred. My name is Ivan Braginski and I'm quite delighted to welcome Matthew into the family."

I snorted, covering up a laugh despite myself. "Dummy. Name's Alfred Jones and it's nice to meet you too." _Really, you have no idea. But now I'm seriously reconsidering my life priorities, _was what I wanted to add, but for once I listened to my head and kept my mouth shut. "Now was that too hard?"

"Yes."

"You're not what I expected to be," I said suddenly, and he scoffed.

"People will think what they like of celebrities. The only way to know for sure is to meet them face to face. I am _so _sorry if I disappointed you by crushing my public image of a nice, prettily mannered man," he said cheerfully, shifting gears when the light changed to green.

As if he _knew. _

But that was impossible, so I responded the only way I know how. I snorted.

"Disappointed nothing. I'm just thinking of all those fans who'd _love _to know how you _really _act like."

"I'd love to see you try."

"How the hell did you find my house, anyway?"

"Satnav," he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right. And you just happen to be in the area, and you went by to pick up someone you obviously don't like because?"

"I _am _here for work. It just so happens that I spotted Matthew in the area and figured it wouldn't be harmful to help him out a bit. And it's not that I don't like you, it's just that you're amusing. With all your screaming and whatnot," he added, as if absentmindedly, and I shifted closer to the door.

Great. Not only the person I have a stupid childish crush over is my brother-in-law, turns out he's a jackass and happens to be a lunatic, too.

I stuck out my lower lip petulantly (I'll never admit it as pouting. _Never._) and lamented as best as I could in my head. _Why me?_

He grinned creepily, suddenly, and I noticed I said it out loud. I glared. "Not a word. Not a _word._"

"If you say so. Not to mention I think it is common courtesy to be as nice as possible to the one who will be relieving me of a daily pain in my life. So I really do owe your brother a favour."

I blinked. "You mean Nataliya? But she seems nice... Enough..."

My voice died under his Look.

"... Not so nice then?"

"You have no idea," he said, cutting by cars as he drove a little bit faster. I suddenly remembered the handshake she treated me to two days ago. "It's quite surprising she's taken such a liking towards Matthew."

"Well, Mattie's a special guy. He can handle a lot, and I mean, a lot."

He smiled. "I suppose."

I think I'm going to go _insane_ if I stay in this car any longer. Ivan wasn't being all that snarky anymore (though I'm pretty sure he's gonna be in another while) and he was smiling, and being in Real Life made me wanna melt so much more, and, I can't take much more of this. So I went on to be a Fucking Idiot for the second time that day.

"Can't you drive faster?"

There was a _long _silence after that.

I regretted it.

_**Regretted it.**_

His response was only another curve of those lips, before he stopped driving the car. Yeah, he stopped driving it.

He started _flying _it.

You can _not _pin this man as driving when he, without warning, jams his foot on the accelerator and speeds like a drag racer on steroids. He will jerk his steering wheel harshly to the side, and the change of vertigo totally had me scrambling on everything I could get a hold of because now I'm convinced he's _trying to fucking __**kill me**_ and I started screaming for my life with various insertions of 'fuck' and 'god' and 'bastard' here and there.

"Okay okay okay _okay god okay I'm sorry what the _**fuck holy SHIT **you were about to hit that _**taxi **_you fucking - _**AHHHHHH!**__"_

Come to think of it, I sound like Mattie when _I'm_ on the wheel.

I apologised to him mentally for all the wrongdoings in the past before I felt the car stop abruptly. How wouldn't I? I practically launched out of my seat, only stopped with the seatbelt I managed to get on before all this shit happened.

"Wuh - wuh - uhwa - what the fuck - oh my god - safe. _Safe._" I sniffed. "Fuck. Okay. What the fuck. You're fucking crazy. You're fucking _crazy -_"

"That was quite nice," he said serenely, with a sweet smile on his face. "That probably answers your question, yes?"

"What kind of question would be justifiable for you trying to _kill me_!?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." He shrugged casually. "I was merely demonstrating that yes, I _can _drive faster. Now be a good boy and run along, I have things to do."

I shakily unbuckled the seatbelt and looked at this, this _dude _I've been fawning over for _years_ with a blank look on my face. In all those movies I loved, from _Commander _to _Siam Paragon_ to even _Morningstar, _where he played one of my favourite roles ever - one of a secret agent saving the world. (So I like heroes.) The newspapers and the magazines said _nothing _about this. In all those interviews he seemed so, I don't know, _nice._

This was probably some sick, _sick _reality I landed in.

"You, are one crazy asshole," I said blankly, still in shock.

His smile shifted, eyes taking on a glint I decided I did not like, then and there.

So I turned mechanically - kicked open the door, knocking over the poor valet boy who was trying to open it for me, and ran like _shit _screaming the heck out for Matthew.

--

--

end two

--

--

A/N: for some reason, in my head, ivan really really really really really really likes bullying alfie. he's probably really nice in public. and to other people. hahahaha.

Thank you so much for the reviews! owo I'm really happy. And as I said before this, I'm writing in first person view from now on. Probably.

I hope I can keep the whole fic up. I'm really sorry if it's not to your liking and stuff. I kinda wanted to focus on character interaction. and. um. lol. lol. lololol.


	3. Service with a Smile

"You're telling me that Ivan's trying to kill you?" And as he said it, he couldn't keep the amusement off his voice.

I growled.

"_Yes. _Like for the last freaking _fifteenth _time I've been _trying _to tell you as you were fawning over the pictures of the ballrooms like some _freaking chick on her wedding day_, **yes.**I am not delusional, I am not drunk, I may have ate a tub of ice cream before coming here but I'm still in sane of mind, thank you."

Matthew laughed, flipping through to the next page. "But he's such a nice person, Al."

"That's what everyone wants him to _think!_" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in the air. Honestly! Why wouldn't anyone wanna believe me in this? I've been trying to convince my own brother about Ivan's Evil for the past two hours or so, in between comments about unsuitable venues and all that - but to no avail. I'm pretty sure Ivan casted some weird voodoo magic over him to just to make sure he doesn't listen to me.

... Or maybe Mattie's just being, you know, a normal guy in love trying to pick a cool wedding dinner venue for the biggest day of his life.

...

...

But that makes me sound as if _I'm _the bad guy!

I promptly went to do the thing that I did in the car earlier. (That thing that looks like pouting, but it's not. Really. _Really._)

"_Fine. _If I show up dead in a few months you know who to look for."

"He's not going to _kill _you or anything, Al. What'dyou think of this one?"

"Too red."

"Huh. You're right."

Both families are involved with the whole marriage - the priest and the reception and the whole '_I do_' shebang, invitation of guests, dinner and all - but we're just getting a headstart, researching and scouting out a bit so that it wouldn't get too hectic later on in the process. (It always ends up that way. Television never lies!) Wedding planners are cool and all, but Matthew wants it to be special so he's taking more of a hands-on approach most of the time. Or so what he tells me.

"_Oh, _that looks really good, back it up." I sat straighter, looking into the album where there were pictures of a theme in golds, blues and reds.

And as Mattie probably expected, lots of stars.

"This one's awesome!"

--

--

_**polcarstva**_

_half a kingdom_

three: _service with a smile_

--

--

Matthew looked exasperated, but a smile was playing on his lips. "That's a theme, Al, we're supposed to be looking for a _place._ Anyway, don't you think it's too, I don't know, _starry_? Like, literally."

"What's wrong with stars? You can't go wrong with stars!"

He just smiled, flipping through more pages, while I shifted closer, eyes scanning the pictures and getting more into it. I guess complaining about Ivan can wait. Matthew probably doesn't get why I'm making a big deal anyway, like I said - only Steve knows. "You can get it for _your _wedding, Al - oh. _Oh._ This one?"

I frowed. "No, the ceiling looks too low. Get something with a nice dancefloor, too. How about..." I flipped through the album fast, skipping two pages at times before grinning widely. "A-hah! This one's perfect! And it says here it's not too far away from the city center, too. The beach is gonna be a bonus in your wedding pictures, bro."

Matthew let out a small noise from the back of his throat. "That looks... Wow, Al. You really have an eye for these things. Natasha's going to love it."

"Nah, I'm just awesome," I teased, grinning when Matthew rolled his eyes. He motioned for the assistant who was hovering around nervously and was waiting since just now for us to finish picking it out. I guess I kinda scared her earlier by screaming everywhere when I barged into this place without warning and pissing off a few security guards in the process.

_I screamed at the top of my lungs, running like a headless chicken trying to find the office located in the lobby where the wedding planner place was. Sometimes I don't get the concept of having offices in hotels sometimes. "MATTIEEEEE -"_

_"Sir! You are causing a distraction, sir!"_

_"Oh. Right." I stopped for a moment, looking at the security guard. "So uh, where's the wedding planner's office?"_

_He gave me a weird look. "Third one to the left... Right over there, sir...?"_

_"Thanks, bro." I started running again in that direction. "MATTIEEEEE!"_

_"Sir!"_

Yeah, okay, shut up, so it's not one of my _best _moments. Pff. I was running towards the office and she was outside the entrance, and I guess it kinda took her by surprise seeing a guy being chased by security guards running towards her place. Um. I also kinda almost knocked the chick flat on her butt when trying to get in, so...

Man. No wonder she's looking at me like I'm some crazy fuck.

"W-will that be all, sir?" she asked, and obviously her motto was 'Service with a Smile!' TM. Even though it kinda twitched in the end when she looked at me.

"Yes. Enquire about reservations in March, but don't confirm anything before I contact you in a few days," Matthew said politely, then gave me a Look. Wait a minute - "Again, I apologize for the scare my brother gave you earlier."

Why do I _always _get the Look?

"It's quite all right. Thank you for your time, Mr. Williams."

"Stop looking at me as if I'm some sort of bad guy, that's so uncool," I mumbled, getting up from the seat the same time Matthew did as we shuffled out of the place. He flicked me on the nose, something I hated because he only did it when he thought that I was being ridiculous. "I'm serious, you know, about Ivan. He's so... He so does _not _act like he does when he's around you guys. I'm not trying to like, sabotage your wedding or anything by talking shit about the guy, but like."

Matthew looked offended. "Of course I know you're not trying to do that!" He grinned. "I know that you're just complaining about him because you can't stand him."

"_Yes!_ Oh god, yes, damn it, _yes._ It's like - it's like - okay, this is gonna sound really lame coming from a 26-year-old guy like me, but it's like he _bullies _me. I just know it."

"It kinda sounds like a few people around here, eh?" he asked airily, and I punched him on the side.

"That was when we were kids, dumbass. I don't bully you anymore. Much."

"Right."

"Really!"

Now before you get any ideas, it wasn't serious. Of course I kinda bullied him when we were kids but I backed him up everytime people got to him and beat up those fucking pansies who wanted to lay a hand on my younger brother. We were really close. The whole thing about me being a bully to him kinda became a running joke between us - he likes to invoke it from time to time, trying to get the guilt factor working.

In fact, my whole family likes teasing me about it.

... I've just got this epiphany that I'm always being played.

"Now seriously, Al. You never let other people get to you like this before if they're being a jerk to you, you just trash them up and never speak about it again. What makes Ivan so special?"

I looked at him for a long while, finding something funny in those eyes of his - identical to mine. In fact, we both looked the same, other than the parting of our hairstyles.

"You promise you won't laugh?"

"I can't promise anything, Al."

"Yeah, I know. You're probably gonna start laughing anyway. People just say that in the movies before they're about to say something _huge._" I took in a deep breath, and looked at him again. "Okay, we gotta do this while walking. Come on."

"Alfred, just say it," he said, even though we _did _start walking.

"Right. Um. How do I say this... Ivan's a movie star, right?"

"It's kind of obvious."

"Shut up. Um. Well, those movies. And everything. Uhm."

"What _is it?_"

I opened my mouth.

"He's my favourite movie star of all time and I have this whole collection of DVDs in my house that I kind of like worship because I really like him and his works and I think he's insanely hot and I get strange but sexy dreams about him from time to time so it pretty much sums up to me having this kind of a stupid, huge crush on him?"

Matthew stopped, looked at me, then started walking again.

"Oh."

... Ugh_bla_?

"What? _Oh? _That's it? No '_oh my god, you're lusting after your future brother-in-law_'? No shock? _Nothing?_"

"Why would I freak out about you liking someone, Al?" He grinned, patting me on the back. "I'm glad you finally told me about this."

"Oh. Well." I grinned, bouncing back up. "That's great! So now I can totally talk to you about it without having to hide it and all - actually, I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier but I know you'll make fun of me about it and well, I don't know. It's weird."

"It's okay, Al," he said, and _that's _when I noticed something was up.

"... Why are you being so happy about this?" I asked warily, afraid of the answer.

Matthew continued grinning.

"Actually..."

His grin tilted.

I _know_ that grin.

"I knew about it all along."

"_**Fuck**_!"

I ran onto a pillar. Why the hell do we have fucking pillars in the middle of the hallway, what the _fuck!? _I rubbed my nose, glared at the offending object and adjusted my glasses. Then I realised Matthew was laughing.

"Dude! You just do _not _laugh at someone who just ran into a pillar after spilling out their guts to you - and how the fuck did you know!?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He put up his hands in defense when I looked ready to pounce him. " I just -" He cut himself off, and laughed again.

Oh my _god._

My cheeks heat up in mortification, and I gaped. "It was _Steve, _wasn't it? Oh I am so going to -"

"No! It wasn't Steve!"

"It's someone _else!?"_ That was even _worse! _Oh god, that was embarassing, how many people knew about this!? I gotta run away, get a new passport, birth cert, start over a new life and _disappear_ - but not without knowing who the fuck it is first. "Who was it!?"

"Nobody!"

"Yeah _right -_"

"Seriously! Al, remember the day when you passed out in front of your television after that movie marathon you were going on about?"

...

...

Okay, seriously. How did he know about _that?_

"... Do you install cameras in my house?" I asked carefully, giving my trademark Alfred Jones paranoid look.

"Al, I went inside your house using that spare key you gave me because you were unreachable for pratically 36 hours. Being the concerned brother that I am, I went to check up on you to make sure you didn't crack your head against a cabinet or something reaching out for a shirt or whatever."

I flushed. "That only happened _once, _okay? Once!"

Matthew snorted. "Actually, it happened two times. You don't remember the other time because you passed out. Anyway, I went up to check on my brother, eh. You were sleeping - surrounded with all these movies, _Ivan Braginski _starring in them and, well."

I vehemently protested. "That means _nothing! _I could've just went on a marathon at _random! _Picked a random actor for the day and - and!"

"Um, Al, you were making weird noises moaning out Ivan's name." He grinned, and for some reason, he reminded me of what a cat would look like when he got a really big mouse. "_Really _loudly, too, with some unspeakable motions going on under those blankets. What was I supposed to think?"

I _gaped._

"Sooooo I kinda left you like that, went home, changed clothes, got dinner." Matthew shrugged. "I never spoke of it since you didn't say anything about it and I figured you'd be too embarassed to even talk about it in the first place - so. Yeah."

Who is this person? Who is this person who looks like Matthew but isn't possibly him because he is so _evil? _Who are you and _what did you do to him?_

Suddenly I thought about Ivan's voodoo curses and shoke a fist at him mentally.

"Alfred," Matthew said suddenly, and I looked at him with a sullen face. He slung an arm around my shoulders - we were about the same height. "It's okay. I mean, sure, Ivan's not all you made him up to be but, you know..."

I shrugged. "I'm not really upset about that. It's just the fanboy side of me that's crushed, but I'll get used to it. You know I always do. I just like complaining, remember?"

"Yeah. I know," he said dryly. Then he grinned. "But you might just end up liking this Ivan more."

"... You sound like Steve. And there's _no _way I can like this guy. I just think he's hot, but that's it, man. Totally annoys the fuck out of me and he says he's just doing it to _amuse _himself. What the hell?"

"Hey, we're family. And if you say so." Matthew patted me in the back then went in the direction of the entrance. "Come on, lunch time. How are the kids?"

"Huh?" I smiled. "Doing fine, all things considered, but I think Alec has really gotta stop bullying Sammy before she cracks and starts doing something drastic."

"Like pushing him down the diving board?"

"Er, something like that."

--

--

"Ivan!"

The Russian looked up from the newspaper and raised an eyebrow at the way his older sister was running towards him. "Katyusha?" he asked, when she stopped abruptly, not too far away from where he was seated at the porch overlooking the gardens. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, don't give me that look, Ivan," she admonished gently. "Why did you fire Paula?"

"Because she was being annoying."

"Brother, that's the fourth time _this month_ you've fired -"

"I didn't fire her, Katyusha, she left on her own accord."

"Only because you wouldn't stop bullying her when you're supposed to _listen _to her."

"I don't bully people -"

"Yes, yes, you 'intimidate'. Honestly, Ivan, you've never usually gone through so many people in a month. What's wrong?"

"By now it should be obvious that I don't need someone to watch over what I eat, da?" he asked, and smiled nicely. "Keep on trying, older sister."

"You still need someone to arrange your exercise programs to keep you fit for your oncoming roles, Ivan."

"Whatever happened to flourishing gracefully under the weight of the times, hm?"

"Growing fat doesn't work for this business, and you wouldn't want to disappoint your fans."

"I've been living up to my image of a nicely mannered Russian man who would love nothing more than to cuddle your children and take you out to dinner dates with fine wine and diamond rings under the moonlight; oh please spare me. I deserve a break from time to time."

Yekaterina gave him an exasperated look. "That is not a good reason. If you are so inclined to fire these people I've tried to find for you, go hire one yourself. I want someone by the end of next week and no excuses, especially with your next work coming up in two months. I know you don't listen to me, Ivan," she said affectionately, running a hand through his hair like she used to when he was still a boy, "But you can try from time to time."

"I _do _listen to you, Katyusha - at the end of everything." He laughed, standing up to kiss her chastely on the cheek. "End of next week, _sestra?_ Where should I start?"

"You should ask around." Yekaterina walked away, making the long trek to the kitchens to prepare lunch. Ivan got up to follow her. "Since he is our future brother-in-law, why not try asking Matthew? Maybe he knows a few people - or you can even ask one of your friends, they should have contacts of their own."

"The effort is barely worth dealing with them," he said dismissively. "I'll ask Matthew." Ivan's lips twitched. "Or his brother."

She _knew_ that look.

"... Have you been bullying the poor man, Ivan?"

"Oh, nothing like that. Just a bit of harmless fun, nothing to be worried about. And it's not _bullying. _I was merely treating him to a view of who I really am."

"Your definition of 'harmless' is quite different from other people's perspective, if you don't mind me saying."

Ivan faked a put-out look. "But his reactions are amusing. I'm very sure he likes the attention. He likes to scream, very much."

Yekaterina knew exactly what 'liking his attention' meant in Ivan's words. "Ivan, you might just upset Matthew by bothering Alfred. Upsetting Matthew would upset Nataliya, and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Of course not. I _am _being nice to Alfred."

"Be nicer. Please, Ivan?"

Ivan gave a whisper of a smirk before it completely melted out into a smile. "Yes, _sestra._ Whatever you say." He gave her another kiss on the cheek when they reached the kitchens but Ivan continued on to the main entrance hall. "By the way, how is the application in getting into that country club?"

"Hmm? Oh, they called up earlier, and you can start using the facilities on Friday."

"Excellent, it would be nice to play a round of tennis again. Remind me again why we do not have a court of our own?"

"Because you haven't built one yet."

--

--

_Friday_

I like kids. They're great. They scream, run around, pee in the pool and headbutt people on the crotch, but they're cool, you know?

"Alec is _bullying me again _Mr. Jones! Mr _Jonesssss! Big bro!_"

I sighed, spotting the guilty party laughing madly as he swam away, bright orange curls making him look like the first target we should hit during shooting practice. "Alec, stop pulling on Sammy's hair. We haven't even started yet and this is what you do?"

"But she won't stop laughing at my own hair, Alfie!" he whined, pouting. I cocked an eyebrow at the girl - who immediately looked guilty.

"B-but -"

"Sammy, stop laughing at Alec's hair. Alec, come back here, you're going to the deep end. And where's -" A hand tugged at my boardshorts and I looked down. "- Raivis? Hey, little guy, what's wrong?"

"I think I wee-wee-ed in the pool..." His lips trembled, and started shaking with the effort not to cry. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Aw, hey, it's okay! Don't cry. You're not gonna get in trouble, if that's what you're thinking." I ruffled his hair, gave him a pat on the back. Raivis was a new kid, and Kiku, this guy that I supposedly work with, said that his dad could use more nerves. In fact I could see him watching nervously from the pool cafe not too far away. "You wanna go to the bathroom, still?"

"N-Not anymore..."

"Just give me a head's up if you need it; I'll take you there, okay? There's a good boy. If you need your dad I can call him over for you anytime - _Alec! _What did I tell you about running near the pool!" I said sharply, eyes narrowing like a hawk.

"Sorry, Alfie."

"Try not to give me heart attacks so early in my life, wouldya?" I said affectionately, then spotted the other two kids who were supposed to be in the pool five minutes ago making their way here. Classes were in groups of five for thirty to forty minutes. "Right, now we have full attendance. Everyone get into the pool, and stick to the sides! Don't run off again, Alec, we've got a new kid."

In case anyone's confused at the moment, I work at the local country club.

It's a nice place, and the pay was great if only 'cause a lot of rich people came around and in addition to getting me arranging fitness programs for them, sometimes they like to hire me to teach their kids swimming. Maybe it's a trust factor going on because actually there's lifeguards to do it but... I'm not complaining. And neither were the managers. It's mostly rich old ladies who come by looking like hawks with their kids but are actually pretty nice when you get to know them - at least to me. They like treating me like I'm their son.

Or a plaything. It depends on whether they're rich married women with kids, or rich married women with kids who still think they're under forty.

Anyway, those rich people like me enough to stop by often, so the managers like me enough for me to get Mondays off (though there's also the factor that the old man owns the whole place, so they like to keep me happy). It's pretty sweet getting to do what I love, which is going around telling people the right way how to do a push-up and all that - well, no, helping people 'work towards better health', if you want me to be serious about it.

Bottomline is, I love this job.

Even though in a few more moments I'm going to regret saying that, but eh.

"Alfred, Ludwig wants to see you," Kiku called up halfway into the session when I surfaced, and I groaned, slicking my wet hair back with a hand as I called the kids back to the edge. I was teaching Raivis how to hold his breath while the others just went through practice sessions from one end of the kid pool to the other - they've done it before, lots of times, and it's like warmup to them. Most of the time they like splashing each other anyway.

"Aww, why? If he's asking about the vending machine that blew up on Tuesday - it wasn't me."

"... A vending machine blew up on Tuesday?"

...

Oops.

"Um. You're not supposed to know that."

...

"Don't tell Ludwig?" I asked as nicely as I could, giving the best puppy-dog eyes I could possibly give. Kiku just gave me a blank stare, as always, and sighed. Ludwig was kinda like my boss; he gives out orders and keeps the recreational part of the club running. I'm supposed to get advice and listen to him - and I do!

Most of the time.

"I won't tell. I'll take over from here, you can go to him now. He's at the North Entrance."

"Right! Sorry, guys, I gotta go. Now listen to Mr. Honda, okay?"

"Awww!" they all chorused in unison, except Raivis, who just gave me a look as if I kicked his puppy.

"Don't be like that! I'll be back even before you know it, really! Mr. Honda's gonna teach you how to float today. Right, Kiku?" I asked, hoisting myself out of the water.

He gaped at me - then pursed his lips and sighed again. "Yes, I will be teaching you how to float."

"YAY!"

"You'll do fine, Rai," I said over the edge, as Kiku got rid of his shirt to enter the water. The kid looked at me silently - was he _trembling?_ - then nodded with great hesitation. After seeing me handle him the father seemed satisfied and left. Man, parents are weird - still, it kinda left me as the sole person he knew around here, so he was attached to me like an octopus. "If you're in trouble, just scream, 'kay? I'll run here as fast as I can - which is pretty quick; honest."

"Okay, Mr. Jones."

"Can I scream too?" Sammy asked hopefully, and I snorted.

"Nope, Raivis is responsible, unlike you. You're going to misuse it."

"You're using big words again, Alfie."

"Alfred," Kiku murmured, cutting into the conversation.

"Oh, right. See you later!"

--

--

"I expected you to be here five minutes ago," Ludwig immediately said as an icebreaker, and I snorted, crossing my arms over my cold, bare chest, barely shivering. We were standing near the place where the guests dropped by in their cars - checked in to use the places, all that. The North Entrance was a bit far away from the pool; it was more for the ones who wanted to play either tennis or golf, while those who wanted to swim went for the West Entrance.

"You can't just expect me to _run off _and leave the kids to themselves. I was just making sure Kiku could handle it before I went."

"Kiku is one of our best trained personnels, Alfred. I'm very sure he could manage." Then he looked at my shorts. "Couldn't you have been a bit more presentable?"

"You can deal with me getting here fast or you can deal with me getting here slow," I said cheerfully, grinning. I was steadfastly ignoring the way other guests were currently looking at me as they were in polos and tucked in shirts with what Ludwig would call 'presentable'. "So what's up?"

"An important guest is arriving. It would actually be more favourable to assign someone else to this task, of course, but you are the only one who knows the grounds as well as I do. Even if Kiku seemed to be the better choice he's not familiar enough with the layout of the club."

"_Riiiight._ So basically, you want me to show the rich bastard around?"

"Yes. Unfortunately I'm too occupied today. And please don't use disparaging remarks about the clients, Alfred."

"But it gets the point across."

"Only you, Alfred... Now remember, service with a smile. Straighten up! He's here."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked up, plastering a smile on my face before Ludwig could smack me and saw a familiar Italian supercar with a name I'll probably butcher.

I _froze._

The man in the car slowed down into a halt and promptly maneuvered out lazily, grabbing his bag on the seat and throwing his keys to the valet boy who looked awed to be entrusted with such a vehicle; surprise overtaking his eyes when saw me -

And his lips upturned slowly, with an _evil, evil _glint to them.

"Alfred."

I twitched, smile still on.

"... Ivan."

--

--

end three hahahhaa

--

--

A/N: owo

Thanks so much for the reviews. Actually I'm really no one special, and not a lot goes through my head. So I won't have nice review responses. o.o Don't expect much from me, hahaha. Still, thank you for giving me a moment of your time!

Also, I'm glad people like Alfred in first person view. XD He's so nice to write, freaking out.


	4. Crazy

Racquet in the bag slung over his shoulder, black shorts, classic white polo with a sports brand stamped on the right; wristbands and shoes - all decked out to own someone in the court, possibly in the moment he actually steps to the place and I was like _lkjdakjfdhot._

I wiped the side of my face to check for any drool, when Ivan wasn't looking, and was relieved to find none. So I plastered that smile again.

"You two know each other?"

It wasn't really a question, more like some sort of astonished exclaimation that made my smile twitch for another time and Ivan's evil smirk melt out into the kind of smile he used to please the public. The Russian stopped just a few feet away from Ludwig and _two feet _from me before answering.

"We're acquainted, yes." He looked at me - made me shift my weight. "You didn't tell him we knew each other, Alfred?"

Be nice. Be _nice._ "I didn't know you'd be coming, Ivan. I kinda got called here on short notice."

"That would certainly explain the boardshorts, yes."

I stomped out the insanely overwhelming urge to do some serious bodily damage to this asshole. Taking up a defensive stance and crossing my arms, I stared at him in the eye and dropped all pleasantries, choosing to glare like I've never glared before. "I just came back from teaching kids how to swim, all right? Do you really have to be such an -"

Ludwig interrupted before I could take things to the next level. "As Alfred explained, he really was in a hurry."

Ivan's smile tilted further. "I didn't say it was bad. It shows a commendable amount of dedication to work," he cut in nicely, and I just. I think my jaw just unhinged.

_... D-Did he just compliment me -_

Fuck, I am _not _thinking about it, especially when I'm half-naked and shivering in front of Ivan-fucking-Braginski -

...

Okay, I just can't win.

"Would you excuse us for a moment? Ludwig, I need to talk to you." And before he could protest, I dragged him a bit far back so Ivan wouldn't hear us when we're whispering. "Dude, I can't work with this guy. I'll blow a fuse or something; get Kiku to show him around at least to the tennis court since he's obviously heading off to the place with the gear he has. I am _begging _you. Have you ever heard me beg? You haven't heard me beg, right -"

Ludwig looked unimpressed. "You did, once, when you accidentally turned the pool pink."

"... That was desperate. Now I'm desperate again. Pretty _please_ -"

"Whatever that may or may not have happened between the two of you, for the love of God keep it to yourself," Ludwig hissed, and pulled me down to whispering level when I tried to get a good look at that bastard. "Alfred! I am _serious, _it might do you very well if you kept personal away from your professional -"

"You think I don't know that? Why do you think I even smiled at him in the _first place _when I absolutely _can't _stand him_?_"

"Alfred, as much as you do know that, you were all too prepared to say something - for lack of a better word - stupid. I could see it in your face."

I opened my mouth to protest, and he clamped it shut with a hand that wasn't on his beloved clipboard, cocking an eyebrow.

"See?"

I grumbled. "Mmmph -"

"Is anything the matter?" _he _asked pleasantly and I yanked that hand off my mouth before looking at the guy, smile ever present and twitching. I know that I can't win sometimes, but _this _is getting a bit too ridiculous. Why the hell _me?_

"Nothing's wrong, just having a friendly discussion that hasn't got anything to do with _you_ -"

Ludwig slapped a hand on my back that made me jump, and _ow! _"_Alfred _here is one of our best staff personnel and he will escort you around the grounds since this is your first time here, Mr. Braginski."

"Please do call me Ivan."

I gave those puppy-eyes I subjected to Kiku earlier but they died under the force of Ludwig's glare. "B-But -" I started, as a last resort, but he remained unmoved.

"Alfred."

I looked between Ivan, and Ludwig, and everyone else staring at me, and Ivan again, and my shorts and I just realised how cold it was in the open air, and I - I -

Fine.

_Fine._

"Fine. I'll do it. But let me dash back to the pool to give the kids a head's up since I told them I'd be back, and go change or something before I freeze to death, I'll take about five minutes," I mumbled, daring Ludwig to go against _this _one - but Ivan was the one who answered.

"Please do take your time, I'm in no hurry."

I grimaced slightly as I turned, mumbling about all the ways to possibly get away with murder of a certain brother who was the source of all of this in the first place, by wanting to marry a psycho's sister.

_No hurry in subjecting me to torture, yeah._

--

--

_**polcarstva**_

_half a kingdom_

four: _crazy_

--

--

After a stern, under-the-breath warning from Ludwig and stating how very much he would like me to treat the client _nicely, _I was finally set to give a tour to the demon currently walking beside me as we made our way to the courts. I was decked out in the standard uniform all staff members had to wear; you get to choose whether you wanted short sleeves or none at all. Mine was the latter. I had shorts to match with shoes about three years old now.

"The pool's on the other side of the building. Actually pretty much all racquet games are on this side. It's kinda like a sports and leisure centre; the gym's in between the pool and the courts, to check in for golf was the place you saw earlier, and that was on the far east side of the club. To play tennis you just have to walk this path and go straight and you're practically there." Then I remembered what exactly Ludwig wanted me to say and I - I sucked it up and did it. "_Sir._"

He looked amused by the whole thing but chose not to comment on it.

"What do you work as, exactly, Alfred?"

I looked at him suspiciously, but then shrugged. What's the harm? He's probably gonna find out anyway from Mattie. "Personal trainer, Mr. Braginski. I'm usually down at the gym arranging programs, mostly for the old people who come by here often."

"You said you were teaching children how to swim. Aren't there lifeguards to do it?"

"It's really weird, but for some reason they like it more if I'm the one to teach their kids. I said I was competent in swimming, and I guess it just went from there." Then I blanched. "Um. Don't tell them I said that?"

"What?"

"That I called them old people. They like to think they're under forty."

This was nice. Just the talking and the walking and like, generally no snarkiness or weirdo psycho motions from Ivan. He was just being cool about it and, well, this was the whole 'dream guy' persona I was telling you about when he seemed nice in all those TV interviews and stuff and how I made him out to be. Seems kinda unlikely, but maybe that psycho episode was a one time thing?

He chuckled. "I will not," Ivan replied dutifully, before he had this really, really creepy smile on his face. "Do you do one-on-one sessions?"

"I've got about two people under me now, but it's only weekly so I see them on Tuesdays and Wednesdays; sometimes I do group sessions with some other people in the club... Uh, if you meant being particularly assigned to one person like, daily or something - then no." I shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

He hummed. "No reason in particular. Just small talk to fill the time, _nyet?_ Getting to know my future brother-in-law."

"Oh." I slumped. Well. Of course he'd be asking questions like that. I looked at his gear then back at him. "So - are you any good at tennis, Mr. Braginski?"

"Quite. Are you challenging me, Alfred?"

"Huh? No! What the hell?" came out of my mouth before I could stop it. Again. He smiled.

"I would probably beat you," he continued, looking at me with that tinge of condescension. Wait a minute _what the __**hell**_?! What the hell is up with this sudden change in persona is he fucked up in the head or something!?

Time for Service with a Smile and Taking Shit From Assholes Mode. I faked a grin.

"I'm not too sure about that, Mr. Bragin -"

"Without breaking a sweat, maybe."

I twitched.

"Whatever you say -"

"A clean set without you scoring. I wonder how well you will do swimming."

... That son of a -

Fuck politeness and _fuck _Mr. Braginski and all that jack shit about _professionalism. _You can talk shit about some skills of mine, but nothing about _tennis and/_or _swimming!_

"I can _so _totally beat your ass in a game of tennis, you egoistic pig-headed freako maniac! You wanna do it right now? I can go get my racquet and beat your sissy fucking ass! Why I oughta -" He shut my mouth with a hand - why do people love doing that? - and I still ranted off angrily, muffled. "- mmph ffmmn nmmmph!" I wrenched that hand aside. "What the _hell _is your problem with me I mean _come on _-"

He put a finger to my lips and I froze.

"Shh," he murmured, then pulled away, motioning around him - where people were staring at me as if traumatized. I turned bright pink.

"Um."

He pulled me by the wrist - like I was some kid, as he started off to the courts.

"I haven't thought it possible, but you are even more annoying being _polite _than when you are being loud. I prefer it infinitely if you were being yourself instead of respecting me when you obviously do not," he said cheerfully, and I gaped like a goldfish, opening and closing my mouth in shock.

... This guy is a fucking _psycho_.

_**Psycho**__._ Did I just say one time thing? My freaking _ass!_

"You did all that just so you can hear me _cuss at you?_" I reconfirmed, and didn't really need to know his answer since it was written all over his face. By a smirk that probably looked like a smile to other people but to me it was just so freaking _smug _and that was _such _a smirk - I think I need to reboot my brain or something just to get rid of all this mindfucking this guy has been doing since we've _met._ "... You really do take pleasure in confusing the fuck out of people, don't you," I settled with, still in shock.

"Only the interesting ones are worth the effort."

That was kinda sweet, if you were a fucked-up maniac. I wasn't a fucked-up maniac. Not really. I don't think I am. Even if this _was _the guy I've been admiring since who the fuck knows, sometimes I can be a bit overwhelmed. I'm definitely in the 'overwhelmed' stage.

"Did you just come to this club because you knew I was working here, so thus you can do some mindfucking?"

"I wanted to play tennis." He shrugged elegantly. "This was just a bonus."

"Can you tell me what you have against me? Dude, like for serious. I just - you tell me that I'm seriously fucking annoying when I start being loud, but that's because you're the one who starts antagonizing me! I mean like, what the hell! Tell me!"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it'll save me from all this _thinking _I have to do? Alfred plus thinking equals Alfred's brain melting into a puddle of goo, therefore no more Alfred?"

"You give yourself too little credit. I suppose I would indulge you once. You are annoying when you are being loud, yes, but only when you are being close to my ear because it irritates my ear drums - being an idiot, second - I gain amusement from it, though, and I have been quite bored for a long time. As long as I get what I want, I'm quite happy. Confusing people about my own intentions makes me happy. That is why I act."

He stopped in front of the nearest court, and released his hold on my wrist - he was _still holding it!?_

"At people's expense - I was born to be selfish, Alfred."

I just stared. "I have no fucking idea what you're _talking about._"

"I know." He chuckled, walking away. "Well, you can think of it as 'I really like mindfucking people and take great perverse pleasure in it'. See you."

...

...

...

Only one thing registered in my mind. You know what it was?

I ran up to him, pulled him down so his ear was in firing range and screamed, "_**PSYCHO**_!" as loudly as I could - which was pretty fucking _**loud**_ - before running the _fuck_ away, cackling madly. He cursed loudly, putting a hand over his abused ear.

Hey, he _did_ say that it 'irritates his eardrums'. His loss for telling me that in the first place - _sucker. _I still think of him as a hot bastard, of course, but I should have my share of the fun. Now I gotta find out more ways to get back at him, eheheheh...

--

--

His ears were still ringing. Maybe he should follow through with his plan after all.

"What happened, brother?"

"Alfred happened," Ivan murmured. "He can be a walking siren with the amount of noise he makes."

"Do you want me to threaten him?" Nataliya asked dutifully, tilting her head in patience.

Ivan was taken aback, but he smiled. "Threaten? Last time you would castrate people - not that I'm complaining, though, I'm glad to see improvement." And the diminishing amount of incoming law suits. Thank god for Matthew.

"He is _Matvey_'s brother, thus he is special. Still he should not shout into your ear." She looked displeased. "He is lucky he is the brother, or _else._"

"You... Really like Matthew, don't you?" To take his feelings into account. Nataliya has only ever done so with two people - himself, for one, and Yekaterina but not by much. "He's good for you."

Nataliya relaxed. "He makes me happy. He listens, and he... He cares. I told you before, _braht, _he doesn't mind my habits so much. I have told him about you, and how people dislike me because I am too aloof and straightforward and cold; how I don't like most people, how violent I am. But _Matvey _sees something in me other people don't." She blinked impassively. "I can... Confide in him."

--

_"People say it is wrong. I can't stop it." Nataliya picked up the bullets for her rifle, and growled low. "I do not want to stop it."_

_"It's not wrong."_

_"You are just saying that to get on my good side," she barked dangerously, and he raised up his hands in defense._

_"Of course I'm trying to get on your good side - I want to be your friend, remember?" He smiled lopsidedly, slowly putting his hands down when Nataliya didn't look like she was about to pounce now. "Seriously, though. You're a great person capable of bearing a great love for someone, what's wrong with that? Maybe the love for your brother is an obsession but... You mean it from the bottom of your heart. You may stalk him and want him to marry you - but you know, that's how you show your love?"_

_"But he does not get it," she said, playing with the bullets in her hands. "I love him and want to be with him."_

_"You already have him as a brother. It doesn't get any closer than that."_

_"I want to be closer! He was -" Nataliya blinked rapidly, sliencing. "... He was the only one I had."_

_Matthew smiled, adjusting his glasses. "He won't stop paying attention to you if you stop pushing affections to him. You __**do **__have him. You have Yekaterina, too. And this is gonna sound a bit too assuming, but, well -"_

_He cocked the gun, adjusting the safety goggles and preparing to put on the mufflers - he extended a hand to help Nataliya out of the bench._

_"You have me."_

_--_

"Then I can truly rest." Ivan stood up from his seat and walked towards the exit. "I have some work so I'll meet up with you and Yekaterina later tonight, da?"

"Brother."

Ivan turned around. "Yes?"

For a split second, Nataliya looked worried - years of being with her and raising her up made Ivan quick to pick it out. "I was wondering if - if I didn't stalk you, if I like another person more than you, enough for me to actually cease following you... If I do not force my presence in your life; will you still pay attention to me...?"

Ivan was silent for a moment, then strode back up to his sister - and pulled her up into a hug, kissing her on the head. She was a great deal eight inches shorter than he was, and seemed to be completely overwhelmed by his size when he encircled his arms around her figure.

"Yes, Nataliya." He smiled, pulling away. "I always have, and always will."

And for a split second again, she looked completely happy.

"... Thank you." She stood up as well and walked towards the window. "Can I still threaten Alfred?"

"Oh, no." He smiled cheerfully, suddenly making a note to talk to Matthew and then Yekaterina after this. "I have plans of my own."

--

--

"He told me, straight on, that he was only doing this for his own _amusement._"

"He's _your _idol, mate," Steve piped up from behind me, and I glared at him, crossing my arms.

"Thank you for reminding me and doing jack shit about it."

Steve was quick to pick on me. "Just doing my duty. So you said that he went to the country club, yeah? To play a round of tennis? Did he look absolutely smouldering?"

"He was hot," I said absent-mindedly, and glared when both Matthew _and _Steve laughed loudly. I made a point to slump down on the passenget seat, sulking. "But he was still a fucking psycho, okay? Now stop picking on me about him! Would you like it if _your _favourite actor suddenly ran up to you and acted like a freaking psychopath who'd love nothing more than to annoy the fuck out of you because he thinks it's _fun?_"

"But it's you, mate, so it would be as fucking funny as this."

"Fuck you, Steve. Can't we stuff him in the back? Please, Mattie?"

"He won't fit," Matthew murmured, as cheerful as fuck. He's been a cheerful fuck since he picked both Steve and me up from my apartment and his college respectively. We were going to see the old man to tell him about the news - he's holed himself up at the very edges of town where the houses are actually referred to as 'estates', for god's sake. You just need the waistcoats and cravats and fine wine and you're all set. Too bad for the old man, we're all decked out in jeans, t-shirts and jackets - except Matthew who looked completely comfortable in khakis and a polo.

"Yeah, thanks for the emotional support."

"He just stopped by for tennis, and that's it?"

"Obviously it's his first time there so it wouldn't be the last time seeing him. He's got a membership and everything now according to Ludwig, which fucking sucks." I scrubbed my face with a hand, sighing. "I seriously need to find a way to get back at him. One of them is screaming in his ear like, really close since it annoys him, and acting like a retard. I don't know, man."

"Al, if you do anything to Ivan you might upset Nataliya."

"Shit, sorry, man -"

"No, I mean, I'm not worried about her, and I don't mind all that much - I'm worried about you. For serious, she will cut you open like a fish and gut you like what Kiku would do to a salmon."

"... Are you sure it's safe to get her into the family?" Steve asked with much paranoia, and I'm proud, because it obviously came from me.

"She won't do bodily harm unless you bug the hell out of Ivan. Natasha really adores her brother to the point of - well, obession, really."

"And you don't mind this? Even when you're marrying her?"

"Love makes you do crazy things, guys," Matthew said cheerfully, being the cheerful fuck again - and I agreed.

"He's right. You've never fallen in love, Steve, you never know."

"Fff, it's probably not all cracked up like you guys make it to be," he said dismissively, crossing his arms himself and leaning back into the chair. Kinda like mine, but in the baby stage.

"Kids," Matthew and I chorused, as the older brothers, and predictably he snorted. "You'll find out it's completely true when you get to that stage - when you get off your butt from playing games twenty-four seven," Matthew added, grinning when Steve pouted.

"Games will never take a backseat to anything except family!"

I cackled, sharing a conspiratory look with Matthew. "Whatever you say, Stevie, whatever you say," I sang, and I could see the estate in the distance; I shifted to get a better look on the 19th-century mansion with the sprawling gardens only because the old man had too much money to spend and he didn't know what to buy at the time. "Do you think he's got that intercom yet?"

"Yeah, he did. I went to visit him once before I proposed and all... But I don't see the point of that _and_ the guardhouse."

"Well it beats guards looking at us as if we're crazy and if we're really his sons or something. I mean like, jeez. Remember the last time with the Rottweilers and the psycho hounds?"

He pulled up onto the large gates - to the side near the guardhouse, but the gates opened even before Matthew rolled down his window. The three of us shared looks, before Matthew shrugged and drove up to the mansion's front entrance.

"Well, that's an improvement," Steve said, satisfied, as we circled the main fountain and grind into a halt in front of the steps leading to the main entrance. "At least there's no more hounds - I'm sorry but I can _not _get that memory out of my head."

"You know the old man only does that when he's being touchy and if we haven't visited him in a month."

"Still - fuck I see hounds. And him. But he looks cheerful. I think I'm scared."

Matthew and me looked up at Steve's words, and saw the legion of dogs nearby the man who was waving at us from the steps. Then we looked at each other at almost the same time.

"Did you do something to piss him off?" we asked together, and then paled.

--

--

end four, owo

--

--

A/N: Kinda boring chapter, I'm sorry. But now we see Nataliya? owo

Thank you for the reviews \o/ Yes, I'm kinda evil to leave it off at the part where I left it just now. Hee hee.


	5. Circumstances

"Okay, this is the plan. Steve runs out first, and when the dogs start chasing him, we make a run for it, Mattie. When the dogs finish mauling Stevie, you just stand there, wave your arms around like a target, and I'll sprint the rest of the way and -"

They gave me The _Look_.

"No," they said in unison, deadpan, and I stuck my bottom lip out which was definitely _not _pouting. I thought it was a _great _idea, thank you very much, so I'mma defend it's awesomesauceness!

Awesomesauceness is totally a word.

"Well it's not like you two have any better ones–"

"_Are you boys about to just sit in there the whole night?"_

"No!" we all shouted together; panic pretty much saturating our voices. I mean like, if you've got a Dad. And that Dad was _maybe a little bit _fond of using, er, dogs to chase you down around your house whenever you pissed him off when you were a teen? It kinda leaves an impression on your psyche. Trust me on this.

Well, maybe just me, because I was one of those wild kids back then. _Yeaaah._

"_Will you three hurry it up –"_

"Yes sir! Of course sir!" Matthew, the ever present reliable one of us three, quickly responded and parked the car without hesitation – shutting down the engine and motioning at us two to _get the fuck out_. And thus, we GTFO'ed, to eventually end up in front of the old man in a straight line, like we're an army brigade up for inspection, or something.

Our old man isn't really that old of a guy. I think he's around mid-forties, 'cause no one really knows and no one ever wants to ask him how old he really is. I'm sure Pa knows, though. Anyway, the guy with the blond hair and the green eyes and those _caterpillars _wiggling on his face, is the guy I've looked up to as a father figure for pretty much a huge chunk of my life.

He had one of those scowl-grins on his face, and just from that I could tell we're either in freakin' hot soup, or he hasn't had any for a good while (why do I know this I don't even), or he's crazily happy about something that he doesn't want to… Show it… O…

…

… Y'know, those eyebrows are _seriously_ distracting. They're just… Damn, man –

The old man looked up with the _driest _expression in the world. "Are you _monologuing _about my eyebrows _again, _Alfred_?_"

"Nu-uh!"

X

**polcarstva**

_half a kingdom_

five: _circumstances_

x

Soon enough, after a few incredulous looks thrown haphazardly at yours truly courtesy of two brothers and a stuffy Englishman, we were inside the old mansion which looked like an exact duplicate of that one television series depicting young Queen Victoria's life. It had the whole pompous, stuck up, 'hey-look-at-my-riches' vibe going on, with gold and velvet everywhere, candelabrums and dark mahogany, paintings of the _glory _of the British Empire, cloth thrown over chair legs and standing lamps. The hallways went to all places, with carefully maintained carpets and furniture probably costing three lifetimes.

Don't get me wrong – I mean, I'm not totally dissing the place or anything since I grew up here, but I never really actually warmed up to it much. I guess that's why I just wanted to get outta there as soon as I could convince the old man into letting me go. Saying that he wasn't too happy about it would be an understatement (_'Leaving me! You and your brother both! For all the fucking trouble you put me thr -!')_ but Pa always said the old man was actually, deep down, really sentimental.

It's actually pretty sweet until he starts throwing the marble bookends. I'm telling you, you do _not _wanna get hit by a freakin' marble bookend especially when it's from Arthur Kirkland.

"Old man! What was up with you standing there earlier with those psycho hounds?" I asked, grinning at the twitch of his lips. He gave into the urge and scowled.

"For the final time, they are not _psycho _hounds. And please do refrain from calling me an _old man_, Alfred." I'm half-expecting him to launch into a tirade of _'Why can't you be as prettily-mannered as your older brother?'_, but surprisingly enough he didn't. "I was just… Trying out a new tactic, you see."

I cocked an eyebrow. "No. I don't see."

"I was just making sure you three don't get any ideas about forgetting your poor father back here in the mansion," he explained airily, and for a minute there I could've _sworn _he was holding a shotgun. "_Do_ try to visit a bit more often, yes?" _Or I'll make sure those dogs actually do something next time._

Matthew smiled and Steve nodded furiously, while I just had this stray thought that the old man must really miss us that much for him to – er – threaten us. He never says it outright, but I know he misses everyone. We're actually this one _huge _extended family like whoah, but we're really spread apart ever since everyone started getting older, so no one's living with Arthur right now except for Pa. Where the hell _is _that guy during all of this, anyway?

Before I could ask, Mattie beat me to it.

"Where's Papa?"

The old man would never admit the face he's doing right now is a pout. He's kinda like me in some ways. "Being _busy._ Of _course _the frog would be busy on the day when three of you actually bother to come down here to visit us without me demanding you all to." He upturned his nose slightly, sniffing._ "Je t'interdis de me déranger, cher Arthur, sous aucun prétexte!" _Judging by the stricken look on Mattie's face, old man's pronunciation could probably use a little more work. "Pah. But he'll come down soon enough."

We ended up in the West family room – considerably more homely looking than the previous rooms, especially since this one has a television in it _and _squishy chairs. I took my usual seat – which was the nearest two-seater, all to myself – while the rest just sat wherever they liked. This is the place we usually come by to hang around whenever we visit. Come to think of it, I don't exactly know the number of rooms in this place…

Arthur turned his attention to Steve, who visibly straightened.

"Yes, Father?"

I snickered. It never – I'm telling you, _never_ – fails to amuse me every time I hear Steve call the old man, well, _Father_. It's so weird it's funny. I had to do it when I was younger, but eventually Arthur got used to me calling him old man. Or Dad, whichever really.

Or Mom. If I had a death wish. Far and few in between, though.

"How are your studies, Stevenson?"

He groaned. "Father, it's Steve. And my studies are..." Steve started doing this really awkward laugh, kinda like he was tryin' to say, '_Please don't kill me_.' How do I know? I do it all the time. "Well, about that."

Old Man narrowed his eyes. "Your studies are…?" he asked sharply, frowning in disapproval.

"My studies are do you know Matt has something really urgent to tell you?" Steve switched topics cheerfully, elbowing Matthew, who coughed sheepishly. Nice save! "Father needs to know, you know."

"Well, er, yes, about that –"

"_Mathieu! _What a surprise to see you, and with Alfred and Stéphane!"

All of us except Arthur broke into grins when a tall, lean blond middle-aged man strode in flamboyantly, disrupting the earlier conversation. Arthur just glared, but that didn't stop the man from stealing a kiss – which, funnily enough, made Steve's eye twitch visibly and _we really need to get him a girl_ – and _that _didn't stop Arthur from smacking the guy on the shoulder. Hard. ("_Aie!")_

Guys, meet Francis Bonnefoy – French, blond, blue-eyed, best cook in the world, and all around lecher. He's the most perverted man I know, and his hair is always up in a ribbon: he's the only guy I know who could do that without looking girly. Totally. I'm not just saying it because he's my Pa (makes him that much awesome, by the way).

"_Ah, Arthur,_ such fierce passion_! _But _so_ much _more_ in bed," he sang, winking, avoiding the second smack to his person and promptly sitting down in an armchair._ "_I heard there is something Mathieu would like to share with us all if I was not mistaken?"

Arthur's anger dissipated in favour of good ol' curiosity. "Yes, Matthew? What is it?"

"Well – that is to say – er –" Matthew flushed, and there was a moment of silence, before Francis gasped dramatically. Yeah, well, I had to get my penchant for drama from _someone, _right?

"I know that look in his eyes! The flush of his cheeks! _Mon cher Arthur, _can you not tell?"

Person in question looked at him funny. "What are you _talking _about, frog?"

Francis rolled his eyes.

"You need to be more sensitive to these issues, mon chéri. Our boy! He is in love!"

"He is in – " Arthur blinked a few times, before blinking again, and again. And one more time, for good measure. "… He's what?"

"Yes, I'm in love." This is when Matthew's shit-eating grin came to view, and he is _absolutely, _I'm telling you man, _absolutely smitten._ "And… I'm getting married."

There was another period of silence, then a sudden THUD.

"_**Father!**_" Steve screeched loudly, pointing at the body slumped over the floor.

Okay, so maybe the dramatic side of me came from the old man instead of Pa.

X

Three and a half drinks later, the old man was finally relaxed enough to say something about it. Mattie was already fraying the end of his shirt with worry (it's a habit of his), while Steve just kept fanning the Englishman. Pa was rubbing his face, where Arthur punched him earlier when he woke up to Pa slapping him senseless.

It was actually pretty funny, especially since the old man was getting more rambly with each drink he took.

"And now my children are – are – are getting _married, _Francis –"

Pa muttered under his breath. "_Mon dieu. _I shall take the liberty of explaining his drunken speech." He turned to Matthew, and placed an arm around his shoulders. "What he means to say, Mathieu, is that he is indescribably happy. Look at the way he slurs. He cannot even convey his feelings properly."

"Shut up, git! It's as if it was only yesterday…" Arthur got this faraway look in his eyes, before he clutched Steve on the shoulders, shaking the poor guy, who was silently screaming. "He was such a sweet boy! My Matthew!"

Okay, that's a bit too creepy. "Dad, get a hold of yourself," I said, and he got this funny look in his eyes – he sniffed again, and nodded slowly. Half of it is probably from the alcohol.

"Yes. All right, I will approach this maturely and delicately." He inhaled sharply, then turned to Matthew. Jesus, it's like he's leaving for years on end or something, the way Dad's acting… "I'm proud of you… And I'll – oh _God_, I'll be a _grandfather."_

It took three seconds of the most _awkward_ silence _ever _before he threw his arms over his taller son, squeezing the life out of him. Mattie squeaked.

Yep, it's definitely the alcohol.

"You're going to have children! I always _dreamed _of today! And – and it's finally here!" he babbled emotionally, close to bawling. Dad was always pretty sensitive about family issues; I guess that explains a lot about himself. Pa just smiled softly, shaking his head at the scene before he came up to sit beside me. Steve was busy trying to keep a hold of his sanity, all too happy to ignore everything except his TouchyPod. Er, iPod Touch.

We just sat there, looking at Matthew handling Dad ("_Sir – father – DAD, it's okay, really, you don't have to…"_ "_I insist! I insist on taking those baby pictures!") _when Pa grinned at me, elbowing my side.

"_Alors, Alfred, comment va ta vie amoureuse_?"

"I don't speak French, Pa," I said, cocking an eyebrow in question. Francis snorted inelegantly, waving at the air.

"Unfortunate, truly. Your love life, _cher _Alfred! It would also not be too soon until I hear of wedding bells from you, _non?_"

My face was probably something Pa wasn't expecting, and didn't want to see either. Darned involuntary pained looks.

"Nothing's going to happen," I mumbled, looking away.

"Alfred…" His tone was low, bordering on worry. "What happened?"

"It didn't work out," I said curtly. At this, Pa scowled, expression taking up righteous anger. Really, he and Dad are so alike sometimes. "We broke up months ago."

"What did he do?" he asked, almost dangerous, and I glanced at Dad, who was thankfully _not _paying attention to the conversation. God knows he'll blow it out of proportion if he ever found out _who hurt my boy! That good for nothing-_

"It's-" I tried to smile, but it came apart. "It's nothing, Pa."

"_Le salopard! Son culot! Si un jour je le rencontre je le réduis en miettes _–" Francis cut himself off when he saw my expression, but sighed anyway. "You say as if broken hearts are nothing, Alfred. You two were together for quite some time…"

I shook my head unhappily, running a hand through my hair. "I know. Just – I know, but – I guess we don't always know. Can we talk about this some other time? I don't want Dad to find out."

"_Trés bien. _Arthur will not be happy about it."

Helplessly, I shrugged – but I know Pa wouldn't tell Dad if I didn't want him to know, unless it was absolutely necessary. He'll notice sooner or later, but now I just want them to focus on Mattie instead.

He deserves it.

X

Matthew blinked at the unfamiliar private number, but answered it anyway. "Matthew Williams speaking."

"_Matvey! It is Ivan."_

"Oh hey, what's up?" Why would Nataliya's brother call? He had a brief moment of panic – and then smacked himself mentally on the head. _Stop jumping to conclusions!_ "Is something wrong?"

"_Nyet, far from it. I have a few questions to ask, nothing more."_

"Oh. Okay?" Matthew said uncertainly. Was this the purported age-old interrogation by Older Brothers to Unsuspecting Future Spouses of Younger Sisters? Seems like it. He prepared himself. "… Go ahead."

"_It is about Alfred, actually. I heard that he works as, ah, a personal trainer. Yes?"_

"That's right." Now this was just getting bizarre.

"_I was wondering…"_

As Matthew listened, a grin spread across his face. _Oh my God. Alfred's so going to –_

"_Thank you, Matvey. I appreciate your time."_

"It's no problem, Ivan. Really." He hung up the phone, and shook his head when he remembered his brother's description of Ivan being _a total_ _asshole. _Really, Ivan's so nice about it all.

Ivan, on the other hand, chuckled darkly after the conversation. Just _perfect. _Yekaterina wandered into the room, almost squeaking when she saw the look on her younger brother's face. The things Ivan usually did were mostly questionable when he had that particular expression.

"Did something happen, Ivan?" she asked almost hesitantly, pretty much afraid to find out.

"Mmm." Ivan hummed cheerfully, arranging his schedule in his phone. "Just a few things. Where did you go, _sestra?_"

"To pick up Raivis from school."

"And how is he?" The boy has always been afraid of Ivan, for no apparent purpose. He seems to think that Uncle Ivan would actually push him down on the head every time they see each other. Honestly, the things children think up of…

"He says he's excited about his new swimming lessons! Maybe he might even stop shaking after he makes more friends. I think school and swimming are good for him."

"And they should be." Ivan stood up from his seat, cracking his neck. "Also, I may have solved that little problem of a personal trainer, Katyusha."

"Oh?" Yekaterina blinked. "'May', Ivan?"

"Well, the person in question doesn't know yet, of course." He leaned down to kiss Yekaterina on the cheek swiftly, as always, as usual, before walking out from the room, still humming. "I have such brilliant ideas, _da?_"

She sighed, but eventually smiled. And then prayed silently for the sanity of whoever 'the person in question' was.

X

Sometimes, I get this overwhelming urge to just get out from my apartment to take a walk. It's one of those unexplainable quirks people seem to have, and today, it was in the evening around six o'clock before I got the urge to just, _go._

It was a quiet Monday in comparison to the last one. No surprise visits from psycho movie stars, no random phone calls from clients, no emergencies from work. It was just me today, walking through the nearby park with no sense of direction.

Weirdly enough, my thoughts keep on straying back to _that guy. _Yeah, the conversation I had with my Pa was still stuck in my head. He wasn't completely right when he said I looked like a man with a broken heart.

I was absolutely devastated.

I know it's been four months already and I _need_ to move on, but – well, first loves are hard, I guess. And I've been avoiding the issue anyway by doing other things, so when I get a little alone time to myself, this usually happens. I try distracting myself with video games, playing with the kids, hanging out with my pals, or just popping in a movie of grade-A Ivan material.

Yeah, he kinda did indirectly help a lot during that recovery period… Not that I'll ever tell him. I'd die of embarrassment. Still, it's not exactly the surefire way to get rid of heartbreak.

Maybe I just need to take the issue by the collar and punch it in the face.

If only it was that easy, you know? When I actually _do_ see _Him_, I just… Feel like running away all over again.

_Whatever._ What's done is done. Mood totally ruined, I went up to buy a cone of ice cream with an insane number of scoops, and soon I was sitting on a bench overlooking the lake. I licked the ice cream without much enthusiasm, slowly distressing myself. This is a side I don't want to show to Matthew and the others. I don't want them to worry.

"Alfred!"

I looked up, and involuntarily blushed. "Er, Ivan." Damn it, why does he _always _have to come around when I look all pathetic and wimpy? So not the image I'm going for. "What're you doin' he – wait. Are you like, stalking me, or something?" Not that I was hoping for it or anything. I'm just, er, being paranoid. _Yeah._

"Yes, I am," Ivan replied sarcastically, not-so-discreetly rolling his eyes. (Actually, I can't really tell if he's being sarcastic or not. I killed the thought before it took me to higher levels of paranoia.) Today he's dressed in a beige overcoat, and I wondered if he'd get too hot in that. Of course, that made me think of him taking it off, then taking _other _stuff off, and… "I've come to terrorize you, of course."

My eye twitched. Crush or no crush, he could be kind of pretty _scary._

"I was joking," he continued cheerfully, as if he totally didn't say 'yeah well I'm just here to terrorize the living balls outta ya'. "So, why is Alfred alone?"

I turned bright pink. Man, I must've looked like a total _loser_. "I, uh, er. I'm _not _alone."

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously! Don't give me that face, man. _You_, on the other hand. Why're _you_ alone?" I challenged, and Ivan scoffed.

"Do I need to have a reason to have some time to myself?"

"Well – I guess not." Embarrassed, I decided to just stick to something I knew I wouldn't mess up. That is, eating ice cream. _Every time _I start talking to this guy my mouth just _has _to come up with something so – stupid, and I'm pretty sure this is gonna drive me crazy to the ends of the Earth, and _why _do I keep meeting him – _not that I mind much anyway because he really is hot and sexy and __**psycho**_and there's a shitload of conflicting emotions inside me and _**I just dropped a scoop on the pavement.**_

_What_

_The _

_**Fuck.**_

I stared at the rapidly melting ice cream, with the last of its life seeping into the cracks of the pavement. Ivan, who was there the whole time, which meant he saw the _whole thing_, started laughing. I flushed, and scowled at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You are," he replied easily, smiling lopsidedly, and _stooop thinking about ittt._ He could seriously kill someone with that. The smile, I mean. Wait no, I don't mea – I don't know anymore _la la la._ Then he smirked. "Ever thought about making your own comedy series?"

"Ha ha. No thanks." I mourned briefly over the loss of one scoop, before turning to gorge on the last one, still prettily perched on my cone. "Why're you here anyway?"

"I just decided to take a walk."

_Creepy. _"Right."

The guy shrugged, and took a seat _on the same bench where I was_, can you believe the nerve of this guy? Why can't he just ask like a normal person if he could sit beside me?

No, I'm not making a big deal out of it! Just because Ivan Braginski is sitting beside possibly his _biggest _fan boy in the _universe_ does not mean said biggest fan is making a big deal out of it!

I scooted away as far as I could without him noticing. _Take that, Ivan Braginski. Ha!_

"Alfred, you are monologuing."

I vehemently denied such accusations. "Nu-uh!"

"You still haven't answered my question," Ivan said, ignoring my outburst and the previous topic entirely, so you can't exactly blame me for drawing up a blank.

"Wha?"

"Why are you alone?"

"For the last time, Braginski, I'm not –"

"Call me Ivan. You called me Ivan before, why switch to Braginski now?"

… Really? I had no idea. "Okay, fine, Ivan. _Ivan. _I'm not alone. Really." Why the hell am I still denying it, you ask? I don't really know.

"You have imaginary friends now?"

"I just – maaaah – why is it such a big deal to you anyway?"

"I am merely trying to make conversation," he replied casually, leaning against the bench without a care in the world. "You are making it into a big deal."

I slumped. "_Fine. _Yes, I am alone, are you happy now?"

"And why so?"

"Because I just _felt _like being alone for a while, _okay._" I feel like I'm being interrogated, or something. "I just wanted to take a walk," I said, echoing Ivan's previous sentence. At this, Ivan hummed, and I wondered if he has a nice singing voice. I wouldn't really be surprised if he did.

Can I just _stop _thinking about him for _one second?_

"You looked sad earlier."

I drew up short, and rambled. "Just some things at work."

"You are stressed because of children?" He sounded as if he didn't believe it. Hell, I didn't believe it either.

"I _wish _I was stressed 'cause of kids. Wait. I don't know what I'm saying anymore." I grimaced when Ivan chuckled softly. "It's just stupid stuff."

"Mind divulging?"

I frowned, and shrugged awkwardly. "Not really."

There was a silence that lasted for two minutes, before Ivan got the _balls _to _pull _on my _hair._

"OW!" I yelped, and looked at him like – WTF? "What the _fuck_ is your problem!"

"It is annoying," he replied, as if I knew what he as talking about, and I really have to wonder if Ivan's so perfectly at home being a psycho that he doesn't bat an eyelash when he does things like, pulling on unsuspecting people's _hair._

"W-_What_?"

"Your face. It is annoying."

I gritted my teeth, flinging my hands up in the air and subsequently sending my ice cream flying over to the field behind us. I couldn't really care less, because I was more preoccupied with preventing my _fist _from meeting Ivan's face.

_He's your idol. He's your idol. He's a jerk. He's an -_

"You, looking sad," he elaborated, and I blinked, anger dying down. "It is very irritating. I feel as if I must punch your face to make it go away."

"… You're one creepy fucker, you know that?" I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. Stupid famous Russian movie stars saying weirdly creepy yet kind of sweet things in highly indirect ways.

Ivan grinned, baring his teeth, and I scooted farther away to what is humanly possible. "So I've been told. You play tennis, _da?_"

"Yeah?" I replied, furrowing my eyebrows. Weird topic change – shit, is he gonna try one of those mindfuckery tactics again? I held the cone in front of me as if it was protection from the oncoming barrage of –

"Play with me."

- mental images of double meanings and Freudian slips and oh _hell_ I just did not think up of Ivan licking a popsicle and saying the same _exact _words to me meaning something _completely _totally different.

…

"Alfred? You look as if I said something incredibly strange."

_I see my sanity slipping away…_

"Alfred?"

"Play?" I repeated mechanically, then cleared my throat. Woo, bad Alfred. No low, husky voices! "Er, I, sure. Yeah, sure. Play tennis. _Tennis_."

Ivan looked at me funny, before probably chalking it up to me just being Alfred, 'cause he shrugged. I get that a lot from people. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Do not forget."

"Okay."

And when he got up to leave, I just realized I agreed to spend more time with this crazy psycho tomorrow. Playing _tennis._

I gave into the urge to scare a few kids.

"M_aaaaaah_!"

X

X

A/N: Hellooo.

Translations, with special thanks to **epieixia** from the het-kink language beta comm:

1. "_Je t'interdis de me déranger, mon cher Arthur, sous aucun prétexte !"_ – Don't disturb me, dear Arthur, under any circumstances!  
2. _"Alors, Alfred, comment va ta vie amoureuse?_" - So, Alfred, what about your love life?  
4. "_Le salopard ! Son culot ! Si un jour je le rencontre je le réduis en miettes !"_ – That bastard! The nerve of him! If I see him I will tear him to pieces!  
5 "_Très bien." – _Fine_._


End file.
